​By Steve Richards
With assistance from ChatGPT

​Tragedy and hope—just like Christ on the cross.Four years ago, in April 2022, I found myself in Bucha, Ukraine—just weeks after the world first began to understand what had happened there. It was my first trip into the country after the invasion, and nothing could have fully prepared me for what I encountered.

Easter that year looked nothing like what I was used to.

Instead of a familiar church service or a family brunch, I spent the day in a cold parking lot beside an apartment building, gathered around a makeshift field kitchen. A group of us cooked chicken soup over an open fire—rain, sleet, even a bit of snow falling around us. The power had only just been restored after nearly two months. The meal took hours to prepare and fed more than a dozen people. I remember peeling potatoes, trying in some small way to be useful.
 

​What struck me most, though, was that it wasn’t even Easter for most Ukrainians yet.

As part of the Orthodox tradition, they were observing Palm Sunday. There were no palm branches—just small budding twigs, a quiet symbol of life beginning again. Their Easter would come next Sunday, marked by a midnight service I watched on a small screen in a darkened train station somewhere between Kyiv and Lviv.

​But my Easter—that year—was in Bucha.

At the church the world had come to recognize.

Near the ground where mass graves had been dug.

The evidence of what had happened there was everywhere—not distant or abstract, but deeply personal. I met people who had lived through it, people like Igor, an insurance agent who had been bound and blindfolded in his own apartment, then later struck by shrapnel from an armored personnel carrier before eventually being evacuated. He told his story simply, sitting in the very apartment where it had all occurred.

​It’s hard to describe what that does to you.

I’ve included here a short, four-minute video excerpt from Trek to Bucha—the first film I created from that journey in April 2022. It captures some of what I witnessed in those early days, and the reality on the ground as the world was just beginning to understand.

Now, four years later, I find myself reflecting on Bucha in a different way.

The town is no longer what it was in those early days. There has been rebuilding. Streets have come back to life. Churches are filled again. But nothing has been forgotten—and the war itself is not over. For the people of Ukraine, this is not history. It is still their present.

And yet, what stays with me most from that Easter is not only the tragedy—but the hope I saw alongside it.
Not a distant or idealized hope, but something very real. The kind that shows up in small acts: sharing a meal, welcoming a stranger, gathering to worship, choosing—day by day—to rebuild.

That’s something I’ve seen on every trip since.

So this Easter, I find myself returning to a simple idea: tragedy and hope—the cross, and what comes after.

If you have a few minutes, I hope you’ll take the time to watch this short excerpt. It offers a window into a moment when the lights came back on—and into a place that continues to shape everything that has followed.

Thank you, as always, for following this journey and for caring about the people and stories behind it. 

​Easter in Bucha video - April 2022 (4 minutes) 

If Stalin couldn’t erase Ukraine, how can a diminished and isolated Vladimir Putin hope to do so?

That question is not rhetorical flourish. It is rooted in history—hard, blood-soaked history.

In the 1930s, Joseph Stalin commanded one of the most ruthless and totalizing regimes the modern world has ever seen. Through forced collectivization, mass deportations, political purges, and the engineered famine known as the Holodomor, millions of Ukrainians perished. The Soviet state attempted not merely to control Ukraine, but to break it—its farmers, its clergy, its intellectuals, its language, its memory. Entire villages were starved into silence. Cultural elites were imprisoned or executed. The Ukrainian church was persecuted. Even the word “Ukraine” was treated with suspicion when attached to aspirations of sovereignty.

And yet Ukraine survived.

It survived not because the Soviet state was weak, but because Ukrainian identity ran deeper than state violence. Language was preserved in kitchens and whispered in lullabies. Faith was practiced in forests and behind closed doors. National memory endured in poetry, folk songs, and the stubborn will of ordinary families who refused to forget who they were. Even after decades of Soviet repression, when independence finally came in 1991, Ukrainians voted overwhelmingly—over 90 percent—to leave the collapsing Soviet Union. That was not a manufactured statistic. It was a civilizational statement.

Fast forward to the present.

Vladimir Putin does not command Stalin’s global ideological machinery, nor does he preside over a superpower of comparable scale. He governs a Russia facing demographic decline, economic strain, and international isolation. His invasion of Ukraine in 2022 was meant to decapitate the state in days. Instead, it galvanized a nation.

Cities like Kyiv, Kharkiv, and Odesa did not fold. They resisted. Ukrainian soldiers—many of them ordinary civilians just months earlier—dug in. Clergy of multiple denominations prayed openly in public squares. Evangelical, Orthodox, Catholic, and Jewish communities alike rallied to defend not merely territory but the right to exist as Ukrainians.

Ironically, the invasion has strengthened the very identity it sought to erase. The Ukrainian language is more widely spoken than at any time in modern history. Cultural production has surged. Churches once divided by jurisdictional tensions have found common cause in survival. A generation of young Ukrainians now defines itself not in relation to Moscow but in opposition to it.

History offers a sobering pattern: empires can occupy territory, but they struggle to extinguish identity—especially when that identity is tied to faith, land, and memory. Stalin’s Soviet Union had near-total control over information, borders, and movement. Putin’s Russia does not. In a connected world, images of destruction become testimonies. Atrocities become rallying cries.

If Stalin, with all his brutal power, failed to erase Ukraine, the notion that Putin can succeed is not just implausible—it misunderstands what a nation is. A nation is not only borders on a map. It is shared suffering, shared language, shared prayer, shared graves, and shared hope.

Ukraine has already endured one attempt at annihilation in the twentieth century and emerged independent. The current war may reshape its borders and scar its people, but it is far more likely to deepen Ukrainian nationhood than dissolve it.
Erasure requires surrender. Ukraine fights. You cannot erase a nation that refuses to kneel.

​Ukraine will not be erased.

This past summer marked the beginning of our Beyond Bucha release. As we move into the winter and spring of 2026, our focus turns to sharing it more widely. Alongside that effort, we’re releasing a short video about my June 2025 trip to Odesa—to visit Sasha and Viktoriia Pinchuk and to premiere the film in Ukraine.

The story opens aboard a crowded bus heading south from Kyiv—my backup plan after every train seat sold out. Soon after, we’re greeted by a small surprise in the garden—a curious hedgehog making its rounds.

Next, we reconnect with Sasha and the Sunrise Flute Ensemble—familiar faces from the Odesa segment of Beyond Bucha—as they take the stage at the film’s premiere inside the historic Cossacks Museum.

Odesa remains, in many ways, a front-line city—home to Ukraine’s navy and key shipping facilities, roughly 400 kilometers
northwest of occupied Crimea across the Black Sea. As a result, it has endured relentless drone and missile strikes over the past year.

But this video isn’t about the destruction—it’s about life in between the sirens. Much of it is told from the vantage point of the Pinchuks’ country home, a refuge outside the city where they can escape the constant threat of bombardment. They bought it mainly for Sasha, to give him peace and safety as he continues to recover from a brain injury caused by a nearby missile blast that sent a shock wave through his neighborhood.

We find Viktoriia at the grill, turning skewers of pork destined to become both dinner and several days’ worth of meals. Between the sizzle and laughter, she talks about the difference between life at the summer house and their condo in town.

But someone is missing. The man of the house—a career naval officer—is on the front line. His absence is deeply felt, a quiet reminder of the sacrifices behind every Ukrainian soldier’s family’s resilience.

Next, we step into the garden—lush, sprawling, and ambitious. I’ve never seen two “non-gardeners” create such a thriving patch of paradise. It’s both sanctuary and statement: life goes on, and it’s beautiful.

We return briefly to the Odesa premiere, where outside the museum Sasha and the curator recall how a recent drone strike shattered the windows and brought down part of the roof. Later, we visit Sasha’s rehab clinic, which was also hit earlier in the summer.

Still in his teens, his developing brain is healing from trauma few could comprehend. We join him during a rehab pool session on the outskirts of Odesa—hope floating just beneath the surface.

We then pass the once-grand Hotel Bristol, which made headlines after a missile strike gutted it. From the street, the façade still stands tall, but the missing roof tells a different story.

Back in the garden, I try to help by picking cherries—so many cherries!—before we head to one of Odesa’s stunning public parks. There, amid fountains, flowerbeds, cafés, and children’s laughter, Sasha sits for a caricature. The artist’s quick lines capture not just his face, but his spirit—cheerful, brave, and unbowed.

​We are now filming another documentary that will pick up the Pinchuks’ story here in New England. The next time we see them, it will be far from the Black Sea—on the shores of Rhode Island.

The world premiere of Beyond Bucha: Finding the Spirit in Ukraine, from the Churches to the Front was held on March 2nd to a packed house at in Jamestown, RI.

A huge thanks to the Jamestown Ukraine Relief Project (JURP) and the Friends of the Jamestown Library for sponsoring the premiere screening, which took place just days after the three-year anniversary of the full-scale Russian invasion of Ukraine. Bear Witness’ Alex Gamota, the film’s executive producer, was also on hand and gave a ringing endorsement of the three-film project, highlighting his organization’s support from the very beginning in March 2022.

​I was on hand to lead the Q&A afterward, which featured a live feed from Odesa with Sasha Pinchuk and his family, who had many friends in the audience. John Andrews, head of JURP, introduced the film and shared this review:

Couldn’t have said it better myself.

As with all our screenings, which double as fundraisers for Ukraine, I was also happy to help raise funds for JURP’s work in Ukraine. Since the beginning of the war, JURP has raised tens of thousands of dollars for Ukrainian causes.
We are making the film available in the coming weeks for everyone to watch and share. Just visit the event page for a link to the film, pictures from the event, and more information.

The film continues to evolve as we edit and create additional versions. It is already available in two forms: the 75-minute director’s cut, which we screened at the event, and a new 57-minute version available online.

Our impact campaign is in the works as we plan a screening tour across the U.S. and Ukraine for the rest of the year.

​Want to help? Arrange a screening—either in person or virtually. For more information on hosting a screening for your group, click here.

For more information please go to the event page at theoeco.org/beyondbuchajamestown.html.

Fr. Theodore Orobets in front of the Wall of Memories at the Cathedral of the Nativity of Christ in Odesa.

By Steve Richards

One of the purposes of Beyond Bucha is to document some of the ongoing Russian bombardment of Ukraine’s religious sites.

None is more infamous than the Transfiguration Cathedral in Odesa, making the city a high priority on my list of places to visit during the production tour last fall.

But my visit yielded much more than expected, including an interview with Fr. Theodore Orobets at the Cathedral of the Nativity of Christ—a much smaller cathedral of the Orthodox Church of Ukraine, more than two centuries old. Little did I know that just a month later, on November 15th, this very cathedral would be struck by a Russian missile.

Report on the bombing of the Cathedral of the Nativity of Christ in Odesa -
November 2024

The interview began with my intrepid translator and cameraman, Sasha Pinchuk, in front of the church with Fr. Orobets at the Wall of Memories. The first section of this memorial honors Odesa’s heroes who died before 2022 in the fighting that began in 2014. This year, the wall was extended to continue their memory following the full-scale invasion nearly three years ago. Fr. Orobets has personally buried close to 40 heroes. Since the war began, 512 soldiers from Odesa alone have lost their lives.

Fr. Orobets, a priest of the Orthodox Church of Ukraine, has served here for nearly 25 years. In the interview, he explains that Ukraine has two types of Orthodox churches: one that is Ukrainian and another that follows Moscow. His church was never part of the Moscow Patriarchate.

He goes on to explain that because of the war, more people are coming to pray at his church—especially since most of those fighting for Ukraine now turn to Ukrainian churches. This is particularly evident in Odesa, where there are only six churches under the Ukrainian Patriarchate, compared to 60–70 under Moscow’s Patriarchate.

When asked about his relationship with Moscow-affiliated priests, he says he considers them brothers who have lost their way and that the Ukrainian church is waiting for them to return.

Fr. Orobets and Richards at the Cathedral of the Nativity of Christ -  Odesa - October 2024
Photo by Viktoriia Pinchuk

When asked if he had ever experienced persecution at the hands of the Ukrainian government, he firmly stated that there is no persecution of Christians in Ukraine. He explained that Ukraine has many religious organizations that operate freely and that those not connected to Moscow face no issues. However, the Moscow Patriarchate, under Patriarch Kirill, supports Russian aggression, and if priests break the law by supporting the war, they must be held accountable under Ukrainian law. He prays that God will give wisdom to the Ukrainian government so that Russia cannot use the church to influence Ukraine. He also emphasizes that the Ukrainian government is fair to priests of all religions and that priests of the Ukrainian Church oppose the way Russia uses the church as a cover for its actions against Ukraine.

We also discussed the war’s effects on him and his parish. He explained that, at one point, people thought they could get used to the explosions and stress—but that is simply not true. It is impossible. The fear is constant because no one ever knows where the next strike will land. Just the day before our interview on October 11th, five people died in Odesa from missile strikes. The day of the interview, four more. Many others were in the hospital, fighting for their lives. They were just civilians, living in their own homes.

On a personal level, he shared that every time there is an air raid alert, the first thing they do is pray—especially at night. He has a wife and four children, and, he noted, the little ones are always the first to pray. He added that they know their true defender is not just the Ukrainian forces, but God.

By Steve Richards

The biggest reason I came here to shoot this film was to dispel the misconception that Christians are being persecuted in Ukraine.

Hopefully, the film achieves that, as this idea is simply not true. ​Some Russian Orthodox priests have been arrested, but these individuals have acted as mouthpieces for and supporters of Russia. Increasingly, only patriots are welcome members of Ukraine’s clergy. Yet even now, the Russian Church carries on as Ukrainian Orthodox followers find it difficult to move out of their comfort zones.

My evangelical roots, having grown up in the Nazarene Church, give me a deep connection with evangelicals, even as I now lean more toward mainline Christianity as an Episcopalian. Though my faith journey has evolved, I have never strayed far from my roots and frequently visit Pentecostal, Baptist, and non-denominational churches across the U.S. The majority of my mailing list and followers come from these evangelical communities.

While Beyond Bucha certainly focuses on documenting the diversity of evangelical churches in Ukraine, it also captures the backdrop of the cities where I filmed: Kyiv, Bucha, Kharkiv, Dnipro, Zaporizhzhia, Odesa, and Vinnytsia during the 2023-2024 holiday season and again in the fall of 2024. If viewers are interested in the realities of life in cities near the front lines, they will certainly find that—especially as they hear mostly English-speaking interviewees discuss their experiences, the histories of their churches, and the challenges they face, including the shortage of men and the profound impact of PTSD on nearly everyone. Their experiences in the war and the effects on their congregations are central to the stories.

When one realizes that these evangelicals are literally fighting for their lives, their parishioners’ lives, and the survival of their churches—all of which are under existential threat from Russia—the footage and interviews with pastors will feel remarkably familiar to Christians in the U.S. Yet, their situation is vastly different. These churches and pastors are on Russian kill lists, just as the hundreds of churches, pastors, and believers in occupied territories of Ukraine have been targeted—where churches are shuttered, services have gone underground under threat from Russian invaders, and pastors have been killed. This reality must remain front and center while watching the film. In the U.S., we take our religious freedoms for granted. In Ukraine, they fight for theirs. They see themselves in a very real religious war, and they remember what life was like under Soviet domination—many would rather die than go back.

I am deeply indebted to the pastors and those who helped me find these extraordinary churches, secure access, and conduct interviews. Evangelicals and Protestants are a small minority in Ukraine, yet it is not uncommon to find third- and fourth-generation pastors. Baptists are well represented, as are Pentecostals, Charismatics, and non-denominational Christians. Mainline denominations are similarly hard to find, with representation from Lutherans, the Reformed tradition, and even Presbyterians. Anglicans are extremely rare in this country, where the evolving Orthodox Church dominates. Greek Catholics are common, and Roman Catholic churches can also be found.

As I reflect on what Beyond Bucha is about—or perhaps more importantly, why I made it—at the very least, we are chronicling events in Ukraine over several years, and we will continue to do so. Ideally, I can provide an effective platform to foster empathy among evangelicals in the United States for their brothers and sisters throughout Ukraine. By increasing their understanding, I hope they will begin to support Ukraine just a little more and dispel the misinformation that taints their perceptions of people they should whole-heartedly embrace. All while crafting a film that entertains and connects with secular audiences worldwide.

By Steve Richards

Pastor Anton Kalyuzhny leads New Life Church, one of the largest non-denominational churches in Ukraine, founded shortly after the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991.

​Situated at the heart of Kyiv’s evangelical community, Pastor Anton is a passionate leader in a country where the Orthodox Church predominates. He brings deep experience in how the church has engaged with Ukraine’s ongoing war with Russia, with involvement dating back to the Revolution of Dignity, where he served as a pastor in Maidan Square during its bloodiest days in 2014.

During an hour-long interview following the Sunday service on October 20th (a 12-minute edited video is attached), Pastor Anton shared powerful insights and issued a heartfelt plea to conservatives and evangelicals in the West. He urged them to rise above disinformation that distorts their perceptions of Ukrainians, particularly evangelicals, who are striving to keep their churches alive and free from the repression seen in Russian-occupied territories, where hundreds of churches have been forcibly shuttered.

Reflecting on how the war has reshaped faith and ministry in his church, Pastor Anton explained that war demands a confrontation with pain and evil. For believers, this means learning to lament while recognizing God’s shared sorrow. He says, “When you are in a war, you cannot run away from pain and evil. You need to learn how to lament…and see that He's crying with us.”

He also emphasized the stakes for future generations, stating that Ukraine must not be lost—it must be preserved for the next generation. He described Ukraine as the most blood-soaked land of the past 150 years, having endured World War I, World War II, the Russian Revolution, the Holodomor, Soviet oppression, and more. This history, he noted, has fostered a mentality of resilience and sacrifice. Unlike Americans, who have never experienced the loss of freedom, Ukrainians understand the agony of living under Soviet domination, which many consider worse than death.

When asked whether he ever feels persecuted, Pastor Anton laughed at the notion, asserting that Christians in Ukraine enjoy more freedom than those in the U.S. He explained that Ukrainian Christians can openly share their faith in schools, public gatherings, and on any platform without restriction. He says, “We can talk about our faith in school. We can talk in any gathering in a city. We can talk and pray. We have absolute freedom.”

Pastor Anton also addressed claims that the Russian Orthodox Church is being persecuted, describing it instead as a tool of Russia’s war strategy. He alleged that the church has been weaponized as part of a vast network of propaganda and espionage, with examples of Russian soldiers hiding in churches and Orthodox priests directing artillery fire. He stressed that the Ukrainian government is not attacking the Russian Orthodox Church but simply requiring that local Ukrainian churches not be headquartered in Moscow. This, he explained, is not about religious repression but about preventing exploitation by Russia.

Ukrainians, Pastor Anton explained, were prepared for the war long before 2022. Since 2014, they have learned to think clearly, remain calm amid sirens, explosions and blackouts, and keep moving forward. Something akin to the English slogan from the Blitz in WW II: “Keep Calm and Carry On”.

However, Pastor Anton expressed deep frustration over the misunderstandings between Ukrainian evangelicals and their counterparts in the U.S. He noted that most Ukrainians are staunchly conservative, yet they are often mislabeled as liberals or socialists by American conservatives. He highlighted the role of propaganda and the influence of conservative media figures, whose stance on Ukraine he described as far removed from the realities on the ground. Pastor Anton urged evangelical believers in the U.S. to listen to their Ukrainian counterparts rather than relying solely on conservative media narratives.

​Finally, Pastor Anton underscored the harsh realities faced by evangelicals under Russian occupation. He noted that when Russian forces take over, one of their first actions is to close evangelical churches. Hundreds of churches have been shut down, and pastors have been killed. Despite these severe challenges, Ukrainian evangelicals remain connected to their oppressed counterparts, bearing witness to their suffering. Pastor Anton lamented that many in the West continue to prioritize voices like Tucker Carlson over hearing directly from Ukrainian believers, describing this as a profound betrayal that feels like “a knife in our hearts.”

By Steve Richards

My visit to Zaporizhzhia this past October opened my eyes to perspectives I hadn’t expected from the evangelicals there.

Not only are they fighting for their religious freedoms, but they also believe they have more religious freedom than we do in America. At first, this seemed difficult to grasp. But after my interview with Bishop Gashchenko at his Source of Life Church—now edited down to 12 minutes—you may find yourself rethinking this claim as well. I’m still processing his perspective, but I can’t deny that the Bishop makes several compelling points that are difficult to refute.I’ve recently returned from a five-week tour of evangelical churches in September and October 2025, during which I attended services at Baptist, Pentecostal, Charismatic, and non-denominational churches. These gatherings felt remarkably similar to those here in the U.S. In contrast to my earlier documentaries, where I focused on Ukrainian Catholic and Orthodox churches in Lviv, Kyiv, and Bucha, this time I turned my attention to the Protestant minority. My journey took me to evangelical communities in Kyiv, Bucha, Irpin, Kharkiv, and Zaporizhzhia, where I interviewed pastors whose insights will be featured in our upcoming documentary, Beyond Bucha, set for release in March 2025, to commemorate the third anniversary of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine.

Bishop Gashchenko laid out his case noting that his church was never forced to close during the COVID-19 pandemic, unlike many churches in the U.S. that were shut down under government mandates. He also highlighted that prayer in public spaces, including schools, is normative in Ukraine—a stark contrast to the U.S.

Perhaps most striking in our conversation were the harrowing stories of life for evangelicals in Zaporizhzhia, especially those trapped in territories now occupied by Russia. These areas have become battlefields—not just militarily but also spiritually—as Russia wages war on evangelicals in occupied Ukraine. Despite these dangers, the efforts to help members escape to safety continue.

Bishop Gashchenko represents dozens of churches following Pentecostal and Charismatic streams of the Holy Spirit, as vividly captured in the accompanying video. What is equally clear is the incredible sacrifices these believers are willing to make to preserve their freedoms, even to the point of laying down their very lives if necessary.

In the end, whether Ukraine truly offers more religious freedom than the U.S. can be debated. What cannot be questioned is their deep appreciation for these freedoms—and the extraordinary lengths they go to protect them.

By Steve Richards

On the bus to Zaporizhzhia from Dnipro this past October, I was struck by the city’s infrastructure as we got near the city.

​Massive dams and bridges dominated the landscape, along with modern condos and businesses. This city, approximately 200 kilometers (124 miles) from the Russian border and 30-50 kilometers (19-31 miles) from the nearest front-line areas, is far from devastated though is deeply affected by the ongoing war. The proximity to active combat zones is underscored by recent glide bomb attacks this this past week that killed at least 13 and injured dozens. (Source: NYT).

I was visiting as part of a five-week tour of Ukraine for my new documentary Beyond Bucha – Finding the Spirit in Ukraine from the Churches to the Front. My goal is to document the state of evangelical communities throughout Ukraine, particularly those near the front lines. In this case, I was meeting with the Source of Life Church and its pastor-bishop, part of the Pentecostal/Charismatic churches. This church, under the bishop’s leadership, focuses on aiding those near and behind enemy lines and helping them to safety. They distribute food, provide aid and transportation, and support displaced individuals from occupied territories. Acknowledging the ongoing trauma of war, the church also offers spaces for soldiers suffering from PTSD, including spaces conducted without loud music, creating a safe and respectful environment.

As it turned out, the translator for my interview was a rare and inspiring figure herself: Pastor Karina Medvied of Yahum Church in Zaporizhzhia City. Karina is a Charismatic minister with a distinct Ukrainian flavor to her excellent English.

Her faith journey began at age 17 when she embraced Christianity despite coming from a non-religious family. She later met her husband in church. Today, Karina is a spiritual mother to her congregation, which meets in a condo basement and conducts street ministries to reach the broader community.

Insights into the Orthodox Church
Pastor Karina shared unique perspectives on the arrest of Orthodox priests accused of backing Russian forces. She supports these actions, believing that many Moscow-oriented clergy neglect the needs of patriotic Ukrainians and instead wait passively for Russian control. She pointed to pro-Russian pamphlets and magazines often found in these churches, which she says have also facilitated fraudulent election efforts in Zaporizhzhia and other oblasts Russia seeks to annex. Such activities undermine Ukraine’s independence.

Nonetheless, Karina acknowledges that many people continue attending Russian-affiliated churches. Nostalgia for the Soviet era, when food and basic necessities were cheaper, often drives this loyalty, even as people overlook the hardships of the past and present.

Karina believes that if people want to remain within Orthodoxy, they should join the Orthodox Church of Ukraine, which upholds Ukraine’s sovereignty while maintaining traditional liturgies, vestments, icons, and even many priests and churches that have distanced themselves from Moscow in recent years.

​A Ministry of Healing
Karina emphasizes the importance of moving beyond past suffering to focus on building a better future through a ministry of care and healing in Christ. Her church works tirelessly to aid those in need, including feeding and assisting people from occupied territories, offering spiritual guidance, and fostering hope amidst the madness.
She also expressed deep gratitude to Americans for their support, which has been essential to her church’s mission and efforts.
An interview with the bishop who oversees Pastor Karina’s church will follow soon.

I'm pleased to share that, after a year of filming, the editing process for Beyond Bucha is now well underway.

We’ve already developed a preliminary trailer and several edited reels from our recent production tour and last year’s holiday shoots. After my recent five-week trip to Ukraine, we now have enough footage for two films!

During my visit, I captured the resilience of Ukraine’s cities, including Kharkiv, Dnipro, Zaporizhzhia, Odesa, and others. Contrary to perceptions of widespread destruction, our footage showcases vibrant cities with lovely hotels, bustling malls, clean streets, and reliable trains—all amidst ongoing sirens and the occasional explosion. The unshakable confidence and resilience of Ukrainians shine through.

We’ve adjusted our timeline and plan to release a series of short films starting in February 2025. These shorts will focus on topics such as:

• Religious freedom in Ukraine
• The evangelical movement, including women pastors
• The war’s impact on churches and congregations
• The Orthodox schism and government actions against Moscow-affiliated priests
• PTSD among soldiers, civilians, and children—and how churches are helping

Each 10–15 minute segment will include clergy interviews and footage from cities and churches visited. Five-minute versions will be tailored for social media to engage leaders and influencers in the USA.

The final feature film is scheduled for release in Spring/Summer 2025 and will combine these shorts into a comprehensive production with versions of 90, 60, 30, and 15 minutes.

Rewards Update
Thank you to our incredible supporters! Your rewards will soon be on their way.

Thanks to your generosity, we’ve raised 75% of our $42,738 budget. However, we need $10,000 to finalize post-production, with $5,000 urgently required for editing to keep us on schedule. Timely funding will ensure the film’s relevance and quality as pivotal decisions about Ukraine’s future unfold.

The 30mm brass angel candlesticks have finally arrived in the USA after a challenging journey from the skilled artisans at the Forge in Vinnytsia. These extraordinary pieces, crafted from spent 30mm anti-aircraft shell casings, will soon be shipped to our Angel-level contributors ($500). In addition, the small flags from Kyiv and Beyond Bucha posters will be sent out to contributors in the coming days.

Looking for a truly unique (and tax-deductible) Christmas gift for the Ukraine supporter in your life? These candlesticks are the perfect choice!

Your support enables us to create a high-quality film that highlights Ukraine’s resilience and religious freedom. Together, we can make an impact and share these vital stories with the world.

For more information and to join our cause click here.